The Demise of Molly's Flat
by lilsherlockian1975
Summary: Molly's flat receives some minor damage do to the overly intrusive consulting detective, well some minor some major. In the process Sherlock see some things that take his mind places that are a bit not good and a bit not Sherlock. *Now complete*
1. The Pink Wall

_**My first multi-chapter fic... very excited. Hope you enjoy.**_

_**I own nothing... except the mistakes, as usual. **_

_**The Pink Wall**_

Molly was sitting at on her sofa painting her toenails when Sherklock busted through the door of her flat.

"Molly Hooper!" He said as a bottle of nail polish flew past Sherlock's head crashing against her wall next to the door.

"For the love of... you nearly gave me a stroke!" Molly said clutching her heart.

"Why are you clutching at your heart, a stroke is a cerebral event so why are you holding your chest like I nearly gave you a heart attack? Really Molly, you determine the cause of death for a living, you of all people should know better."

That's when Molly threw the second bottle of nail polish at him (he caught that one.)

"Why are you here trying to cause my death (to be determined later) anyway?" She asked.

"Oh, I need your laptop." He said brightening.

"What?"

"Molly, really... all these years and still you expect me to repeat myself? Your. Laptop. I. Need. It."

"Why in God's name can't you use one of your own laptops, last time I was at your flat you had like fifteen." Molly was running her hands through her hair considering pulling it out.

"Because I'm here and my computers are not." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"URHG, you know where it is. I'm taking a bath." She said gathering up her supplies (that weren't broken.)

"You mean you are _going_ to take a bath, 'I'm taking a bath' suggests that you are currently taking a bath... you are not, we are both in your sitting room."

Molly squinted her eyes and said "Such a dickhead." As Sherlock moved to her desk to pick up her laptop.

"Hey, pick up that broken glass before you start!"

"You threw it at me, why should I have to clean it up?" Sherlock asked in disbelief.

"That was your fault and you know it. I know you can make a fist, try knocking next time and you might not have beauty products thrown at your head. Clean it up before Toby gets hurt."

Sherlock pouted for a few seconds then said,"Fine! I'll do it only because an innocent creature shouldn't suffer because of your overreaction to company. And why the hell wasn't your door locked? How many times have we talked about you and that door Molly?"

"I have literally NEVER seen your door shut let alone locked, you're one to talk."

"I'm not a defenseless woman." He said as he picked up the remaining bits of the broken bottle.

Molly had started to walk down the hall, this stopped her in her tracks.

"Okay, I'm going to be calm about this and handle your statement one asinine comment at a time. I will admit that I have on occasion forgotten to lock my door, such as today. I will be more careful. However, you are not my father, big brother or... or my anything else to be ordering me around. Secondly and soooo much more importantly... **not** a defenseless woman." She said pointing both thumbs at her chest.

"Molly, I just scared the life out of you simply by coming into your home. What would you have done if I _had_ been an attacker?"

"I've hit you once before Sherlock Holmes don't temp me to do it again."

Sherlock laughed "That, oh Molly I _let_ you slap me. I could have stopped you and you know it." He said as he tossed the broken bottle in the bin.

If Molly was mad before she was livid now. She had, at one point felt bad about slapping the living day lights out of her friend (especially since later that day he'd got himself shot) but she finally decided he had needed it and since (for some reason) Sherlock on occasion listened to Molly Hooper, she wasn't going to feel guilty about it now.

"You _let_ me? You just _let_ me hit you."

"Slap Molly! Not hit, with your tiny little hands I doubt, even with a closed fist, would have done any r..."

That's when Molly Hooper punched Sherlock Holmes soundly in the nose.

"Molly! What the hell?" Sherlock said holding his nose.

"Oh, Sherlock! I'm sorry! But really you shouldn't challenge me, I'm small but solid." Molly said as she was getting icepack for Sherlock's ever swelling nose.

"Molly I've hunted and killed trained assassins, what if my reflexes had kicked in and I had hit you back?"

"Please, at this point I think you're more scared of me than I am of you." She held the icepack up to his injury.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, you big baby, hold still. Serves you right for making fun of my small hands."

She was standing in between Sherlock's knees holding the icepack, he was smiling despite the mild pain.

"I believe I called them tiny... OW!"

Molly pushed down on his nose. "Watch yourself Holmes..."

"Okay maybe you aren't completely defenseless but please remember to lock your door."

When he said this Molly looked up at the door in question.

"I'll never get that nail polish off my wall."

"Acetone would work but it'll take the paint off too."

"Ya, I know. Here." She gave him the icepack. "I'm going to bathe, don't bleed on my laptop."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sherlock said grinning then wincing at the pain.


	2. The Brown Ceiling

_**See I said I was impatient... props to my wonderful husband for help on this one. He makes a great research assistant. Such a lovely big brain he has... he's better than Wikipedia.**_

_**A/N: Tiny mention of autopsies, nothing graphic... you've been warned.**_

_**Again I own nothing... you know the drill, enjoy!**_

_**The Brown Ceiling **_

It had been one of the longest day of Molly's life, 14 hours, 4 autopsies and so much paperwork she was certain she had developed carpal tunnel syndrome in the span of one day. She couldn't wait to get home, feed her cat and get into a very hot bath. Unfortunately Sherlock Holmes had different plans for his pathologist.

Frankly it was her own fault, Molly should have known something was up. He hadn't been in all day, not once. There was no case or exceptional deaths, all her autopsies were from the same auto accident, the last one turned out to be the driver, they had all been thrown from the car hence the need for the autopsies (will people never learn the importance of seat belts?) She had not heard from the detective since he had been in two days prior to check on some samples in the lab.

She should have been able to smell his boredom from miles away.

When Molly got to her front door the first thing she noticed was that it was unlocked... not good. There was either a burglar inside steeling her grand's 1/16th carrot diamond ring (worth about seventy pounds) or (and frankly more likely) she'd been invaded once again by Sherlock Holmes.

She walked in and said "Sherlock, not tonight!"

"Molly, where have you been? I've been waiting for hours."

Sherlock was in her kitchen wearing goggles, a plastic tarp covering most of the suffices including the table, counters and floors. He had the stupidest smile on his gorgeous face.

"Sherlock! What the hell have you done to my kitchen?"

"Wait until you see this Molly, I found it on YouTube." He was holding a package of candy.

"No! You aren't doing something that requires tarping my flat, this won't end well."

"Molly, I've watched the videos and done all my research, I know what I'm doing. This is going to be so exciting... trust me and watch."

Sherlock put a large bottle of cola (frankly Molly had never seen such a huge bottle of cola in her life) in the middle of her kitchen table. Then he dropped one of the candies, Mentos as it turns out, into the open bottle. A fountain of soda about a foot high erupted from the bottle and Sherlock smiled even brighter and laughed.

"Okay, that was pretty interesting. Why?"

"Well evidently it has to do with the surface of the candies and the carbonation in the cola... let's do it again."

"Look at this mess Sherlock!"

"No worries, I even brought my own paper towels." Sherlock said as he brought out another bottle.

Molly looked around and found said paper towels and started moping up the brown liquid as Sherlock set up another round.

"I think we should increase the amount of candies this time don't you Molly?"

She didn't hear what Sherlock said because she was under the table soaking up some of the liquid that had managed to get on the tarp on the floor. Sherlock dropped an entire pack of mints into the cola causing an eruption to rival that of Mt. Vesuvius, the bottle fell over and shot backwards and cola not only spewed all over her ceiling but about 80% of her kitchen, then landed on the floor next to where Molly was cleaning, covering her in the brown fizzing liquid. Molly was startled by the whole thing and ended up banging her head on her kitchen table.

She carefully extracted herself from the floor dripping and furious. Sherlock at least had the decency to look guilty.

"You put all the candies in at once didn't you?" She said in what Sherlock had come to know as her 'scary calm voice.'

Sherlock giggled and said "I told you it would be exciting." Just then a few drops of cola dripped onto his expensive dress shirt and in his hair, he and Molly looked up.

"You are a wanker." Again very calm. "My house is covered in cola."

"It was diet, it won't be sticky." He said with a small smile.

"Here's what's going to happen... I'm going to take a bath and when I come out you and all evidence of this experiment will be gone, do you understand?"

"..."

"SHERLOCK?"

He jumped at her change in demeanor, "Of course Molly, go take your bath, I'll take care of everything."

Molly walked toward her bathroom rubbing her sore head and mumbling something about the proper way to kill a consulting detective.

Sherlock got to work, he couldn't get the brown stain out of her ceiling however. _What the hell do they put in diet cola? _He thought.


	3. The Hole in the Wall

_**Here we go...more shenanigans.**_

_**I own nothing except the mistakes, that's all me! Enjoy!  
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_**The Hole In The Wall**_

London was experiencing a power cut, that was why Sherlock was letting himself into Molly's flat (this time.) After the electric went out he had sat in his darkened kitchen convincing himself that Molly could be in danger. Mrs. Hudson was visiting her sister in Leeds so it's not like he was abandoning her, just their building.

_Power cuts bring out the worst in people, riots, looting, gang wars! Anything could happen and poor, delusional Molly thinks she can handle herself... I have to save her! He thought._

Molly was sleeping soundly, dreaming that she and Alan Rickman were having tea on a train and he was telling her about the time he had fought a sea beast on a distinct plant. **What?** It's his voice! She's always had a weakness for men with interesting voices... hence the longstanding Sherlock crush. Anyway, she was pleasantly dreaming when she heard a loud crash in her sitting room. She sat up trying to orientate herself, was that the dream or was there someone there? Sherlock was out of town on a case (wel,l he was suppose to be, but had finished early and of course she didn't know this.) Great, not only did she get woken out of one of her favorite dreams but she was being robbed, she tried to turn on her bedside light. When it didn't come on she looked out her window and realized the street lights weren't on... power cut! _The perfect time for a break-in_. She grabbed for her phone only to see that it was completely dead. She felt under her bed and grabbed her dad's old cricket bat. Summoning up all the courage she had she walked out of her bedroom.

There was indeed someone in her flat, they were making their way from the sitting room to the kitchen, she could see their torch light and barely made out the figure of a person a few feet from her, that's when she swung the bat with all her might. At that moment Sherlock saw her from the corner of his eye and dodged the bat (barely.)

It got lodged in the wall.

"Molly, it's me!" Sherlock yelled.

"Are you kidding me?" She yelled back.

"I'm impressed Molly, if you'd connected I'd be out cold. I may have underestimated your defensive abilities."

"What are you doing breaking into my flat during a power outage? Is it your goal in life to cut mine short?" She asked slowly catching her breath.

Even though she couldn't see his face, Sherlock looked totally abashed. He had come there to protect her and again she was accusing him of trying to scare her, of course it was a frightening set of circumstances, he could understand that at least.

"If you must know, I was worried about you. All kinds of undesirables come out when there is an electrical shortage"

"You mean like overprotective consulting detectives? I get those all the time."

"I'm not overprotective." Sherlock huffed. "Don't you have any candles?"

"Ya, bring that torch into the bedroom. And what else would you call trekking all the way over here in the middle of the night?"

"A casual concern."

"Impossible." Molly mumbled.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Ah, here we go." Molly held up a candle, Sherlock pulled out a lighter and lit it.

"You just happened to have a lighter in your pocket?"

"You never know when you might need to light something." He said as he lit another candle.

"Like a cigarette perhaps?" Molly scolded while they made their way back to the sitting room.

"I'm a grown man Molly if I want to smoke a cigarette every once in a while I can, now who's being overprotective?"

"Ow" Molly said as she bashed her shin into her coffee table.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes... I'm fine I just kicked the table." Sherlock reached out for her and she jerked away.

"You are very agitated tonight Molly."

"I don't appreciate being woke up at 1:30 in the morning, besides I was having a lovely dream." She said and Sherlock smiled. "It wasn't about you." She deadpanned.

"Hey, that's my trick." Sherlock was completely taken aback by Molly's deduction.

"I thought you said it wasn't a trick." She laughed.

They settled on her sofa.

"What did you break, I heard a crash?"

"Oh, I tripped on Tobias and knocked off that ghastly lamp Tom got you for your six month anniversary. Good riddance."

"How did you know... Oh never mind. I actually liked that lamp. Although I'd prefer not to have Tom reminders hanging around. Maybe you did me a favor. Sherlock, I'm exhausted, are you staying?" She said with an aggravated sigh.

"Umm, I suppose." Still feeling a little disgruntled that Molly didn't apparently appreciate his coming to her rescue. _Every time I try to do something kind for her, it seems to make her mad... I can't win, she's not the same Molly Hooper of three years ago_.

"Fine, take my bed. I'll sleep here... as usual." She said under her breath.

"Molly, you've been mumbling a lot tonight. Is there something you'd like to say to me?" He said as he was getting off the sofa with one of the candles.

"Of course not Sherlock, and if there was you'd just deduce it anyway."

Sherlock started down the hall.

Molly mumbled once again, "Could invite me to sleep _with_ you... is _my_ bed you know."

Sherlock stopped and turned around, Molly hadn't noticed because she had turned her back to the room and covered up with the throw from the back of the sofa. He was standing next to the cricket bat hanging in the wall. "She's never getting that deposit back." He mumbled as he made his way to her bedroom.

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. The Broken Hard Drive

_**The Broken Hard Drive**_

Sherlock had been at Molly's flat for about forty-five minutes before he heard her fumbling with her keys, unsuccessfully trying to unlock her door. He listened for a minute then got up and opened the door. Molly fell into his arms giggling, drunk off her arse.

"Oh, Sherlock... ah ha! You didn't scare me this time!" She laughed.

"That's only because you're too drunk to know enough to be frightened. Your friends let you walk home like this?"

"They walked me to the corner. Anyway, I'm not as think as you drunk I am." More giggles.

Sherlock was holding her up almost completely. He was seriously considering finding her friends and having them deported. _I'm sure I could come with a good enough reason_. _Now what do I do with her?_

"Molly I think we need to get you to bed." He said steering her toward her room.

"Oh, wow... that only took six years...I'mmmm gooood! It must be the fuck me boots!" More giggles.

By the time he got her to her bed she was laughing like she was the funniest person in the world. He had to admit, she looked adorable. Wait... Okay fine, Molly Hooper _was_ adorable. He couldn't help it. They had been spending so much time together lately that he missed her when she wasn't around and well he seemed to always find an excuse to see her. _That_ didn't matter right now, right now she was seriously drunk and he needed to be a good friend and take care of her, because that's what friends do.

He crouched down eye level, "Molly I need to get these boots off, okay?"

"Your not wearing shoes either Mr. Detective Man."

"Right, I'm taking off your boots Molly, do you understand?"

"I understand that you have amazing eyes, how can they be twelve different colors at once? Hmm?"

"It's heterochromia." He said

"Heter-watta?

"Never mind, may I remove you boots Molly?"

"Yup!" She said popping the 'p' and leaning back on her elbows and sticking out her left foot. "You can remove anything you like Mr. Holmes." She leaned back up quickly and whispered in his ear, "Anything at all." Then leaned back once again.

_Well, that was unexpected,_ not a drunken flirtatious Molly (people often act overly sexual when inebriated,) but Sherlock's body's reaction to said flirtation. He steadied himself and unzipped her high black boot and pulled the first one off, then when he started on the other Molly shifted and her skirt road up on her thigh. That's when he noticed her undergarments... Molly Hooper was wearing stockings and garters. _Gulp, damn Molly... sexy underthings really? Okay focus._ He got a hold of himself once again and pulled off the other boot.

"Molly, why did you decide to dress like an inexpensive prostitute tonight? Did you attend a fancy dress party?" He asked as he put her boots at the end of her bed.

"I felt like looking sexy tonight Shhherlooooock."

"That took a while, didn't know if you were going to make it." He laughed. "Where's your waste basket?" He said absently looking around, he didn't notice that Molly was unbuttoning her top. He found the bin on the other side of the bed and brought it over and put it next to her. That's when he realized she had removed said top to reveal a sheer black bra. Sherlock stood there staring, though he knew he shouldn't be. She wasn't even trying to be sexy anymore, just laying there being very drunk..._ this is so wrong_.

"Okay, you need paracetamol and water." He sprinted out to find the medicine, _a task... I need a task._

Unfortunately in the time that it took him to find the the pills and get her a bottle of water Molly had managed to get her skirt off, but of course not her garters and stockings. When he came back into the room he found her passed out on her stomach, her arse sticking straight up in the air. _Oh my that's a perfect ares_... Sherlock couldn't pull his eyes away from Molly's lovely bottom, he was frozen once again.

His best friend had once called him a machine... nothing could farther from the truth. Sherlock, for all his attempts at keeping that area of his mind from infecting the important parts (that which are allocated for his work,) was still a man and of course the sight of a beautiful nearly naked woman did things to him. Things that even a completely naked Irene Adler hadn't managed to accomplish.

He had finally accepted that he cared for Molly, really cared for her and now his mind was trying to marry Molly '_very good friend whom he cared for and wanted to be around_' with Molly '_the_ _sex kitten_,' full round bottom poised suggestively in the air. If John was here he'd have (well he'd be pulling him out of this bed room and thumping him on his head,) but he would have noted Sherlock's buffering face. He may just have to completely rewrite his hard drive after this evening.

With far too much effort Sherlock finally managed to force himself out of Molly's bedroom and into her kitchen for a nice cold glass of water (since an ice cold shower was, at the moment out of the question, however very much needed.) Now he needed a game plan so to speak... He supposed he should stay, if she tried to get up Molly could hurt herself (she wasn't sure footed in the best of circumstances,) not to mention the possibility of choking on her own vomit. Yes, he'd have to stay, hopefully she'd not remember that he was present for her little strip-tease tonight. Sherlock set up camp on her sofa and tried to rid his mind of the exquisite things he had just witnessed.

As it turns out trying to delete a beautiful half naked woman you (apparently) desire, really only makes things well... harder, as it were.

Definitely going to have to rewrite that hard drive...


	5. The Broken Door and Mirror

_**The Broken Door...and Mirror (and Slightly Broken Pathologist)**_

_**I forgot my disclaimers for the last chapter, oops... **_

_**So I own nothing except errors, those would belong to me! Enjoy! **_

At 3:21 am Molly woke up desperate for the loo, unfortunately she was still in a bit of a state. She stumbled around her room and smiled triumphantly when she found what she was looking for. However she was mistaken... what she found was her closet. In what could only be described as some kind of alcohol induced fit of super human strength she managed to knock the sliding door off it's track and it came down and Molly Hooper came with it.

The mirror on the front of the door fell off first and crashed into thousands of pieces followed by the door, fortunately for Molly she was on the inside of the closet when the door fell causing minimal damage to her person if not scaring the life out of the flat's other occupant.

Sherlock came running from the sitting room to find Molly still mostly naked on the back of her sliding closet door trying to get up, if she had managed it she would surely have been cut to shreds from the glass bits that had managed to escape during the fall.

"STOP!" Sherlock screamed holding up both hands. "Don't move Molly, stay right where you are."

The incident must have sobered her a bit because she (on her hands and knees) looked up at Sherlock wide eyed and completely shocked.

"Please Molly don't try to get up, let me get my shoes and I will come and get you. Just promise me you won't move."

"Okkkay, I'll w...wait."

A minute later Sherlock returned with his shoes on and he walked over to Molly. "Okay, stand up." He said.

"I broke my door... How did I break my door Sherlock?"

"I don't know Molly, I was in the sitting room but I have my theories. I'm going to pick you up now, do you understand?"

Molly nodded her head. Still seemingly oblivious to her state of undress. Sherlock put and arm under her knees and one under her back and picked her up bridal style and carried her to her sofa.

"I'll be right back." He returned with her dressing gown which he had found on the back of her bathroom door. "You'll want to put this on." He said with an apologetic smile.

She looked down at her body and finally noticed what she was wearing. "Oh my Lord! Sherlock I'm so sorry. I can't believe this, why am I naked? Oh... I'm so... Oh..." She trailed off as she stood up on shaky legs to wrap herself in the garment. Then sat back down.

"It quite alright Molly, you haven't been quite yourself this evening. Can I look... at you knees?" As he sat down on her coffee table in front of her.

"My what?"

"Your knees, when you fell you might have injured yourself during the closet incident, I'd just like to make sure you okay."

Molly carefully moved the dressing gown out of the way so Sherlock could see her stocking clad knees. They weren't bleeding (_and they were still quite lovely, _he thought) but he couldn't tell if they were bruised through the black stockings. "Molly, you may have to remove the stockings, I can't tell if they are bruised." He was brushing his fingers gently over both of her knees. He looked up into he eyes, "Does it hurt? Your knees, are you in pain?" His voice was a bit too breathy and he was wishing he could manage better control of himself right now.

Molly was still a bit inebriated and not totally convinced she wasn't imagining this whole thing, because if she didn't know better she'd think Sherlock was, well, turned on. But that was ridiculous, Sherlock didn't get turned on, and certainly if he did he didn't get turned on by her (even if he had just seen her in her best lingerie,) it was just the alcohol making everything seem odd. _Snap out of it Molly, and stop imagining things_! She told herself. _You are way beyond this_.

She stood up quickly breaking the spell and Sherlock's contact with her knees. "I'll go takes these off and use the loo, that's what I was trying to do anyway... I think." She said with a confused look on her face. Then she stumbled off to her bathroom.

Sherlock saw this as a perfect opportunity to get a hold of his bloody self. _What the hell? Was I just caressing Molly Hooper's knees? A bit not good... very much not good._ He was pacing and waving his hands around in the air like a mad man. _Okay need to focus on something innocuous... the periodic table, tobacco ash, Mycroft's many failed diet plans... not working! She'll be back and she'll bring her knees with her... fifteen years and you lose control because of a small pathologist, this is worse than the heroin...NO! Don't compare Molly Hooper's knees to drugs, don't think it and certainly don't say it!_

He was still pacing when Molly came back in, "Sherlock are you okay?" She asked because he looked like he was working on an nearly unsolvable case and was out of nicotine patches.

Sherlock took a deep breath and turned around and swore under his breath because the things he'd been feeling all night hadn't dissipated one bit. She stood there looking all... _Molly,_ even more so than before though, she had washed off her make up and brushed her hair and of course removed those damned stockings.

"Just working something out Molly, that's all. You know how my mind works, got board for a few minutes and decided to solve a problem while I waited. Can I check you for injuries now?"

"Um about that, I looked at my knees Sherlock, they're fine... I'm fine. Sure I'll have one hell of a hang over tomorrow but other than that and some slight mortification... I'm no worse for the wear." Molly said wringing her hands and trying to force a laugh.

Sherlock noticed, "What about your hands?" He said as he reached and took her hands in his.

"See they're fine." She said pulling them back. "Thank you for helping me tonight, again sorry for flashing my date night undies at you, that must have been embarrassing. Although knowing you, you probably didn't even notice." She said with a nervous giggle.

"Right, of course, ya... so, what are we going to about your closet?"

"Oh, I don't know not sure I should be making major decisions right now. I'll call someone tomorrow. Oh, where's Toby?" She said suddenly.

Sherlock pointed to her cat hair covered, thrift store, arm chair where a sleeping Toby lay completely unaffected by the events of the night.

"Ah yes my narcoleptic cat could have slept through the Blitz, should have known."

"Either that or he get's his soothers from Mrs. Hudson's dealer."

They both laughed.

"Okay Molly, I'll leave you to it then. Your sure your okay?"

"Yes Sherlock, thanks again."

"What are friends for? Take the paracetamol, it should at least help with the hangover."

There was this painfully awkward moment when neither of them knew what they should do, Sherlock moved to kiss her cheek and Molly moved too pat his shoulder they ended up bumping their foreheads with a collective "Ow."

Sherlock decided that was enough uncomfortable social interaction for one night (or a lifetime) so he grabbed his coat and dashed out the door. Molly breathed a sigh of relief.

"My poor flat." She said to no one really.

**I wanted to take this moment to thank some of my of you wonderful reviewers... AJP910(Joan),InMollysWildestDreams,Bucky5,Rocking the Redhead, SammyKatz,Sherlockian87... Thanks for all the words of encouragement. I love reading them, your feedback is priceless! **


	6. Broken Thoughts

_**Broken Thoughts**_

_**A/N: So here we go, there is a tiny description of a crime scene in this one, FYI.  
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_**As always... I own nothing... **_

Molly was off for the next two days which was very fortunate because she had one hell of a mess to clean up. As she got up from her sofa and drug herself into her kitchen wishing that the coffee would magically make itself, she started to remember the night before. Broken door... glass everywhere... sooo many vodka shots... sexy underthings... Sherlock. That weird moment when he was touching her knees, what the hell was that?

_That man is... wait... I flirted with him... I think? What did I say? Something about his eyes or shoes? What about his shoes? Are his shoes sexy? I really am a terrible flirt and the embarrassment continues. Did I throw myself at Sherlock Holmes while only wearing my knickers... my sexiest knickers? Oh good Lord, and I had gained so much ground. He hasn't insulted me in months. Oh but he will start that up again for sure, but wait... he didn't, even after I... no... that's when he touched me... he seemed... Noooo! _Molly shook her head trying to make some sense out of the rapid fire replay of last nights events.

Meanwhile on Baker Street...

Sherlock was pacing... pacing and smoking. Oh yes the patches weren't helping one bit. He'd been pacing for hours, the smoking had started about thirty-five minutes ago after he had vomited because he was wearing five patches at once (he knew it was a bad idea, but he had to try something.) All kinds of strange things were going through his well honed mind and his body, it was behaving like a fifteen year old.

_Okay so Molly, in sexy black knickers may have thrown a bit of wrench in the whole celibacy thing... I'll retrain myself just like I did after Uni... how'd I do that again? Mind Palace don't fail me now._ He started searching for his file on 'not needing sex' although he was positive that's not what he had named it, but nevertheless it had to be stored somewhere... now to just find it. He never really had a chance because he was pulled out by the sound of the T.A.R.D.I.S. landing in his kitchen (well not literally, but Molly had changed her text alert on Sherlock's phone just to be funny.) He probably would have ignored anyone else but he knew it was Molly so he grabbed his phone and read it.

**If you don't get a case can you come by today-Mxx**

_Great! She probably wants to talk about last night, I'd really rather just forget it. Of course right now I can't, but I will be able to as soon as I find that damn file! Where the hell is it? _He put his phone down and pinched the bridge of his nose. Once again the T.A.R.D.I.S. landed and he picked up his phone.

**I borrowed my neighbors wet/dry vacuum but I can't lift this door by myself, if you're busy I can call John or Greg-Mxx**

_Who the hell's Greg?_ He thought.

**Greg Lestrade you git-Mxx**

_She really has to stop doing that, it's creepy. Oh, now I know how everyone else feels... I don't like it._

**On my way-S**

Molly had decided it was best to just pull the plaster off all at once... get it over with, not wait days or weeks for her and Sherlock to be embarrassed about the whole nearly naked thing, besides she had to clean up the glass and there was no way she was going to be able to get the door up with out hurting herself.

The more she studied the previous nights events the more she was convinced that her drunken mind had conjured Sherlock's 'knee fondling' and that it simply hadn't happen. This whole thing was quite simple really, he'd come over they'd laugh about how drunk she was, laugh about how naked she was, then fix her closet door... done and done. Everything back to normal.

Sherlock on the other hand was having a very hard time convincing himself that this was at all a good idea. He had decided not to set eyes on Dr. Molly Hooper until he had located the 'abstinence' file (_no that's not the name either_.) Of course it didn't matter now, because she called and he had come running. _The woman has domesticated me, how did that happen? When did that happen? Good God, I'm John Watson!_

He was standing outside the door to Molly's flat, mentally preparing himself to see his pathologist, when it suddenly opened before he had knocked on it.

"Why are you just standing there?" Molly said as she came out with a bag of trash in her hand. "I'll be right back, have to toss this down the chute." She skipped by him wearing sleep shorts and a tank top, her regular 'cleaning day outfit,' Sherlock had seen it many times before but suddenly it looked _sexy?_ Yes, Molly Hooper looked sexy wearing ratty sleep shorts and a tank top with lavender paint stains on it.

_Turn around and leave now, go home and find that file before this gets out of hand. GO!_ He told himself. But he was frozen to the spot. _Since when do I not have control over the movement of my own legs?_ He dove back into his Mind Palace at this point to find anything that might help him overcome his sudden paralysis. He managed to find the image of a particularly disgusting crime scene, picturing the man's intestines used as the rope for his own hanging (don't worry, he wasn't a very nice man, a member of a rival gang had killed him because he had done something similar to said gang... this happens back and forth all the time.) The image did the trick and Sherlock had finally regained the use of his lower extremities. That's when Molly got back.

"My underthings aren't going to jump on you if you walk into my flat you know." She said as she rounded on the detective.

"What?" _Oh dear God she __**can**__ read my mind_.

"Well that's why you haven't gone in yet, you're freaked out about last night? Look, I know that must have been awkward for you, I'm sure it would have been for me if I hadn't cleaned the bar out of all of it's modestly priced vodka. Come on, lets get this over with." She said motioning him into the sitting room.

_If it were only that simple_, he thought.

**Thanks or reading.**


	7. A Broken Conversation

**I don't own these lovely characters, if I did Sherlock wouldn't have made it out of the morgue that day with the riding crop without one Miss Molly Hooper on his hip... sorry that has nothing to do with my story, just fondly remembering my first Sherlolly notion. Please enjoy and thank you to all of my lovely followers and reviewers, you bring me joy!**

**A Broken Conversation**

Sherlock reluctantly followed Molly into the sitting room and as she sat on the sofa he looked around the room helplessly. He had few options, he could sit next to her (not good, he was barely hanging on right now) or he could sit on the cat hair covered arm chair that was currently occupied by Toby's ever sleeping form or the ottoman (well that's just humiliating.) So he decided to be proactive...

"I thought we were going to fix that door Molly."

"Umm well yes, but I thought we should talk about last night first."

"What is there to talk about?" He asked nervously.

"My naked bum for starters." Molly said laughing a bit.

"It wasn't naked, Molly. I didn't see you naked." Sherlock said getting more agitated.

"It nearly was, look I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable Sherlock I'd just like to talk about this so we can get on with it."

"What?" He asked his eyes bulging. Of course all the poor man heard was _get on with it_, and in his tumbling Mind Palace_ it_ meant sex, at least for a split second.

"Sherlock why are you being so... weird, were you that affected by the fact that I own sexy things?" She said laughing again.

"I'm not being weird!" He snapped "And if you think for one minute that I was _affected_ my your nearly naked body kindly remember that I've seen Irene Adler completely naked Molly, and there is hardly a comparison."

Sherlock instantly knew he had committed a mortal sin, the look on Molly's face was enough to tell him had managed to inflect enough damage to undo all the work he had put into this friendship. But that's just it, it wasn't work at all. He had enjoyed every minute of it, the experiments, the goodhearted arguments over the latest issues of their favorite pathology journals, the take-away, the quietly drinking tea while Molly reads science fiction novels and even watching as she would get riled up when he would ever so carefully push all the right buttons to bring out the fire in little Molly Hooper.

_WHAT THE HELL? _

_Oh my God, what have I done?_

Molly just sat there blank faced while all these thoughts went through Sherlock's mind. She must have had enough because she finally spoke up.

"Well, I predicted this... I actually knew this would be the next step. Thank you for confirming it for me right away, so I didn't have to wait for the proverbial shoe to fall."

"What do you mean?" Sherlock said in a very breathy voice.

"It was fun while it lasted, having your respect and even friendship. But I won't go back to the way it was before, I can't Sherlock. I'll call Greg to help with the door, you can let yourself out." Molly got up from the sofa and started to walk past Sherlock but he grabbed her wrist.

"Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten about this part... okay get it over with."

"What?"

"The false flattery to smooth things over, go ahead. You can't even help yourself, same old pattern. Let's just skip it though because I have one hell of a headache... it's fine, just let go of my wrist Sherlock."

Panic was truly setting in now and he was desperately trying to figure out what to do. His mind was literally waring with it's self, but he knew one thing... he wasn't letting go of Molly Hooper's wrist.

"No, Molly."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no, I'm not letting go. Because you don't understand, and I don't understand and... " He looked away and tried to come up with a solution but he didn't have one.

"Sherlock, you just told me that my body doesn't compare to that of your ex-girlfriend's, not that I would have ever thought it did, but seriously? Can't you just let me go so fix my closet, then crawl in it and have a nice cry." She laughed awkwardly.

"Molly that's not what I was trying to say or maybe it was but it's not what I meant to say. Urgh! How do you deal with these... these... feelings all the time. I've had them for less than twenty-four hours and I'm half out of my mind." He said with one hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other still firmly gripping Molly's wrist.

Molly sighed "What in God's name are you talking about Sherlock?"

"Please Molly, give me a minute... I need to think, I can't think while you're being... you."

"Oh right, forgot myself again."

"NO!" He yelled, "You're missing it."

"Yes, simple little Molly misses the point once again... I won't be treated like a doormat again Sherlock..."

Molly was going on about well... something, he was sure it was important but all he could suddenly think about was her perfect mouth, pink and soft... _is it soft, I bet it would be soft. Oh, she's mad now, did she just call me a fucking twat? Oh, Molly... such a foul mouth when you're all worked up._

Sherlock grabbed her shoulders and pressed his lips firmly to hers. He didn't move his mouth at all at first just savored the sweet silence, not just the reprieve from Molly's on-slot but for the first time since he had last shot himself full of heroin his mind was completely still, completely blank... blissfully so. Then his mouth suddenly decided it was time to change things a up bit and started moving. Which felt marvelous and Sherlock had to applaud his mouth's decision until Molly put her hands against his chest and pushed hard, breaking the kiss.

"Really? Kissing? You think that's going to fix this? What's wrong with you Sherlock? Have you lost your mind?" She said turning away from him wiping tears from her eyes.

_I made her cry... I kissed her and made her cry. I shouldn't be allowed around people. This was always going to end badly. Fix it, fix it now!_

"Molly," Sherlock said as he reached out for her, but she shrugged him off. "Molly, I wasn't trying to manipulate you just then, if that's what you think. I... I wasn't."

Molly slowly turned to face him, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face she still looked stunning.

"Then why the hell did kiss me Sherlock? Hmmm? To shut me up, all you had to do was let me go. I asked you to let me go and you wouldn't. So tell me, why'd you do it?"

"I think... because I wanted to." He said very hesitantly.

"**You **_**think**_**?**" She shrieked.

"Yes?"

"Urgh! You are impossible! If you aren't going to give me a straight answer just go, go right now and don't you dare even think about coming back. I mean it, you've gone too far this time. I can't take it anymore. You have no idea how easily you can hurt me... and I let you do it over and over. Damnit, this feeling..." she was shaking her head her arms folded protectively over her stomach. "I almost forgot how much it hurts... this false hope!" She started sobbing in earnest once again.

"No, I do... I did mean... I _wanted_ to kiss you, I want to kiss you. I'm sorry, it's just new and hard to explain. I don't understand and you were sexy with your garters and stockings. I felt things... things I haven't felt since, well a very long time. And I didn't know what to do with them, it was you and everything is already so easy with you, we're so easy. And I didn't want to come here today because I knew when I saw you I'd think things again, all those very, very naughty things I was thinking last night then I couldn't stop thinking of them. I tried not to, but then today you had your cleaning clothes on and damnit if you didn't look sexy again... and Adler was never my girlfriend, we never... ever... and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I meant it, but not the way you took it. There _is_ no comparison, because you were so much lovelier, _are_ so much lovelier..." Sherlock stopped because he was breathing so heavy he realized he may well be on his way to hyperventilating.

Molly was staring at him, eyes as big as saucers. Finally, after about two minutes she found her voice.

"That was very lovely, what you said there... about me and well so... you and her never?"

"Never... Molly?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to kiss you again..."

**Thanks for reading.**


	8. Yet Another Hole in the Wall

**A/N: So here's the final chapter, first the warning... this is where it gets mature, very mature. If that's not your thing my feelings won't be hurt if you stop now, however if it is... I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I as enjoyed writing it.**

**Also one last thank you to all you beautiful people who are reading, following, and reviewing this story. You have brought many smiles to my once dreary face! I am about half way finished with my new story and plan to start posting chapters soon. I also have some one-shots done and will go ahead an get those up soon as well.  
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**And remember Sherlock and Molly aren't mine... but in my world they belong to each other. **

**Yet Another Hole in the Wall**

Sherlock placed his hands on either side of Molly's face brushing his thumbs over her wet cheeks, wiping away some of her tears. This time he wasn't rushed or frantic, he kissed the corners of her mouth gently and sweetly then pulled back and smiled at her.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi." She replied.

Then he kissed her temple and her cheek and her jaw and and then finally made his way back to her lips. The kiss was sweet and chased and Molly was starting to wonder if his _'naughty thoughts_' were as naughty as her's. That's when the tone of the kiss changed altogether. Suddenly Molly was pushed up against the wall and he was possessively kissing her, nipping at her lips demanding entrance which she gladly granted. Once tongues were involved it was a fight for dominance that Molly quickly lost. When he realized he had won that battle he moved his kisses down her neck adding little bites and licks as he went.

Before she knew it Sherlock's hands were under her top and not so gently massaging her breasts. He moved his hands down to cup her bottom then whispered, "You know what I thought when I saw your perfect arse sticking up in the air last night? Hmmm? I thought about how lovely you'd look while I pinned you to your bed and slammed into you from behind, that's what I thought about, then I thought about it in the shower this morning. I couldn't even stop myself, that image came to me unbidden. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and your hot little bum since I saw it, what do you think about that Dr. Hooper?"

Molly couldn't have formed a coherent sentence if her life depended on it, and just then Sherlock flipped her around on the wall and resumed his assault on her neck. He then slowly started slipping his hand into the band of her shorts while he ground his erection into her bum.

"Tell me Molly, do you think about me when you touch yourself? When you are ridding your hand are you pretending it's my hand, my mouth... my cock?"

She was trying, she really was but he had moved his hand down and was gently brushing her mound. "Tell me Molly, what do you think about," he slipped a finger past her folds, "when you do this?" and started circling her clit.

She let out a strangled moan, then finally, "Oh Sherlock you, I think of you. Oh don't stop, please don't stop." She half hated herself for begging but she couldn't help it... of course Sherlock Holmes would be _this_ good at foreplay, he's good at everything, and right now he was turning Molly Hooper into a wet, moaning mess.

"Mmmm, I have no intention of stopping Molly. You have awoken something in me I was certain was so deeply buried that no one could recapture my attention... but be forewarned Dr. Hooper, I don't do anything halfway. It's all come back to me now, and I intend to have you screaming my name before we are done."

"Oh God Sherlock!"

"That's a good start, but not quite there yet are we?"

Just then he slipped one finger into Molly wet entrance and she braced herself against the wall. Sherlock's other hand had found it's way underneath Molly's bra and was working her nipple.

"You are so wet Molly, do I always make you this wet?" He said while adding another finger and grinding his cock into her arse.

"Oh God Sherlock, please just fuck me?"

He chuckled in her ear, "No, no my sweet little pathologist, I'm not quite ready yet."

Molly, out of sheer desperation, pushed her bum harder into Sherlock's cock and wiggled. "You... seem... ready... enough... to...ahhhh, me" She said as he continued to work in and out of her while slowly torturing her clit with his thumb.

"Oh, no... you naughty girl... not until I've had my taste." He said as he turned her once again looked her straight in the eye and licked his fingers clean. "Mmmm, still not enough." He pulled off her shirt then quickly divested her of her bra then he kissed her again and was grinding his cock into her so hard that she thought it must have been just as tortuous for him as it was for her, but then he laughed again and she realized she was whimpering.

"You're a bastard." She said pulling his hair.

"You knew that when we started this Molly, but I promise to make it up to you." He said just before sucking her erect nipple into his mouth. He switched to the other nipple and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out.

Then he suddenly dropped to his knees and yanked down her cleaning day shorts to find her devoid of knickers, "Forget something this morning Miss Hooper?"

"Oh, just get on with it you great git!"

"Mmmm, gladly." He said as he held onto her hips and lick and kissed a trail from her waistline to her mound. Molly spread her legs even wider as he approached her wetness and slipped two fingers back into her once again.

"Oh fuck Sherlock!" He felt her walls start to close immediately and he pulled right back out, "You fucking tease." That's when he lowered his mouth onto her clit and assaulted it as if it had done him some kind of personal harm. He lavished it with his tongue and sucked it into his mouth over and over again as he thrust his fingers into her cunt, pulling out and releasing the bundle of nerves every time he felt her start to close around him. Just when she thought she might collapse from want of an organism he drove his fingers back in and twisted them in just a way that made Molly's world shutter and sent pulses of blinding pleasure coursing through her entire body. He didn't stop his work on her clitoris at any point and soon she was spiraling toward yet another orgasm faster than she ever had in her life.

"Oh... ffffuuuck Sherlock, Ohhhhhhhh!' She screamed as she reached for purchase but found only a plaster wall for her to cling to. It didn't matter because in her lust fueled frenzy she dug her nails into the wall creating eight deep gouges in their wake.

Sherlock pulled his head back and supported the trembling doctor as she crumpled to the floor next to him gently laying her down and stroking her face as she came down from her high. "Oh my God, that was... well... I'll find the words eventually." She looked down at Sherlock's fully clothed body and said "What's... going on here? Don't I ever get to see your bits?"

With that Sherlock jumped up and very quickly removed his clothes, if she didn't know better she'd have thought it was some kind of a magic trick... one second he had clothes on and the next he didn't (or maybe she had blacked out, who knows?) But suddenly he was on top of her pressing his impressive erection to her entrance and kissing her once again.

"Still on birth control Molly?" He said just before sucking and biting what she could only assume would be quite the obvious love bite onto her neck.

"Umm yes, but... are you?"

"Clean? Yes, been tested since the slapping incident and I've never shared needles. And no I'm not offended that you thought enough to ask, after all your mind is just one of the many things I love about you."

Molly had been writhing under Sherlock's ministrations until he used _that_ word, then she just froze.

Sherlock leaned up and looked into her eyes,"Yes Molly, I said love. What else do you think this is? I haven't done this since university, and besides John you're my best friend, no matter what Mrs. Hudson says... he's really not my type. Of course I love you, it just took last night for my walls to start come down enough to realize that I also _wanted _you... completely."

Molly blinked trying desperately not to cry, _this is not the time. _Her brain was stuck somewhere between lust addled and complete shock and she was trying to decide_ do I say it back or just be here and enjoy what he's doing because it feels fucking fantastic. _

Her mind was made up for her when Sherlock got impatient and plunged down for another breathtaking kiss.

"Are you ready Molly, you requested that I do something earlier... how about we 'get on with it' as you so eloquently put it?"

Molly nodded her head because even though she was a bit more present she still couldn't find her voice. Sherlock reached down and stroked himself a couple of times then lined himself up and slowly pushed into her. Molly gasped as she adjusted to the his size, and he smirked then caught her lips with his.

"So perfect, my God Molly you feel amazing." He grunted out as he slowly pumped into her. He took one of her nipples into his mouth again and she arched her back, she was already on fire from her previous orgasms and his tortuously slow pace was winding her right back up.

"Sherlock, pl...please... harder." She said clawing at his shoulders.

"Alright love, but remember you asked for this." He said as he leaned back and tilted her hips lifting one of her legs over his shoulder. Once in position he set a furious pace drilling her harder and harder.

Molly unleashed a string of profanities that would have made any drunken Irishman proud. Just when she thought it couldn't feel any better Sherlock, knowing he was very close to the precipice himself, reached down and thumbed her clit sending them both right over the edge. Molly screamed out something a kin to Sherlock's name and kicked her free leg out, since they were at an angle to the wall she managed to put the heel of her foot right through the cheap plasterboard, wedging it there and sending a two foot crack up the wall.

"Fuck Molly? Are you okay?" Sherlock asked trying to look behind him while still um, attached.

Molly dissolved into a fit of giggles as Sherlock removed himself and turned around fully to see what had happened.

"Molly, you've kicked a hole in your wall and your foot... it's still in there."

She still couldn't talk only shake her head laughing hysterically.

"We've...got... to..." Then Sherlock broke, he couldn't handle... Molly was laying there completely naked, looking thoroughly shagged with her foot attached to her wall. It was the funniest damn thing he'd ever seen. He laid down next to her holding his belly and roared with laughter.

Finally when they had come back down from their laughing fit he asked, "Can I get your foot out now?"

"Ya, that might be good." She giggled out.

Sherlock carefully twisted Molly's ankle until he could pull her foot free from the wall, then bent down and kissed it ever so gently.

"Better?" Molly nodded. "Does it hurt?" He asked.

"Not as much as you'd think." She giggled.

"Molly, this wall...look at it." That's when he noticed the claw marks. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh, that happened during my first, well... when you were going down on me." She said a little embarrassed. "I don't know what I'm going to do Sherlock... over the last two months we've completely destroyed my flat."

Sherlock was still running his fingers over the gouge marks on the wall, marveling at how she had managed to accomplish such a thing.

"Ya, this place is basically a loss...frankly I can see only one solution." He said looking around her flat.

"Oh, really and what's that?"

Sherlock returned his attention back to her, "Isn't it obvious Molly Hooper, you'll just have to move to Baker Street, we haven't destroyed that flat yet." He said with a twinkle in his eyes.

**Thank you for reading!**


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